Quincest Drabbles
by DeadToBeginWith
Summary: A collection of unrelated drabbles about everyone's favourite twins. Tegan and Sara. Quincest.
1. Behind Closed Doors

_**Behind Closed Doors**_

The door slides shut, and they are alone. No time is wasted before hands are reaching out, searching for the warmth of body that is so similar, and yet so different. Lips meet in urgent kisses, tongues dance against each other, and barely-audible moans are swallowed by the pressure of a familiar mouth. They didn't choose to be this way; living out their days in the desperate anticipation of a few moments alone, where much-needed contact can be granted away from the harsh eyes that would be inevitable if they allowed this side of their relationship to show. No, they didn't ask for this, but instead are left to bear the curse of one soul split into two bodies by a freak scientific accident, the two halves kept apart by the rules of an unforgiving society.

The elevator slows, and as always they cling to each other until the very last second, reluctant to part and return to the charade of being just sisters when really they are anything but. As much as they both wish that the last moment of unrestrained togetherness could stretch out for an infinite length of time, the doors begin to open, and as they separate, so do the twins. There's one last look, one last gentle brush of hands, one last reassuring smile as they make their way out into the world that both know they were meant to be in together.


	2. Just A Storm

_**Just A Storm**_

Bare feet pad softly along the worn carpet as yet another flash of lightning illuminates the rain hammering relentlessly against the window, throwing dark room into sharp relief before fading just as quickly. The sliver of brightness coming from underneath the bathroom door adds a little more light, but it isn't needed; Sara knows her way around this room like a shepherd knows his sheep, despite the fact that her own is the one situated across the hall.

She reaches the bed, stretching a trembling hand out to gently shake the shoulder of the figure sleeping peacefully between the sheets. Sara curses herself internally; she curses the bone-deep fear that is causing her, at sixteen years of age, to desperately seek out comfort because of a stupid storm. She curses the fact that she has to admit to her weakness, admit to the childish terror that causes her hands to shake and her heart to race. But she has no choice, like it or not she is scared.

Tegan doesn't say a word when she wakes; she doesn't need to. This routine is a familiar one. She pulls back the sheets, shifting over towards the wall to make room for her sister's trembling figure. Sara climbs into Tegan's bed, grateful for the security of her sister's strong arms. One of her hands comes to rest against Tegan's chest as she snuggles into the embrace; the other cupping her twin's jaw.

The kiss they share is light and sweet; the comforting sensation of two identical sets of lips meeting in a way that's all too familiar helping to calm Sara's nerves that are frayed from the storm. Slowly the shaking in her limbs begins to subside, Tegan's warmth bringing the feeling of safety that she so desperately needs. Sara focuses on the sound of her twin's even breathing to drown out the noise of the rain still pounding on the glass. She closes her eyes, letting sleep take her. After all, here with Tegan, it's only just a storm.


	3. Heat

**_Heat_**

The air is heavy, oppressive, bogged down with the weight of the impossible heat that causes a light sheen of sweat to break out across Sara's skin, covered only by the thin material of the oversized tshirt she had reluctantly donned, for the sake of decency as opposed to the unneeded warmth it provided. The large windows of the hotel room are thrown open in the hopes of catching even the slightest breeze that is absent from the outside air. The only sound is the rustling of the pages of the book Sara has open on her lap in a fruitless attempt to distract herself from the suffocating heat that is keeping sleep at bay, making it difficult to find relief from her weariness.

Beside her, Tegan has lost her fight with the exhaustion that came as a result of battling the intense temperatures throughout the day, and has fallen into a restless slumber on top of the covers, unable to bear anything more than just her underwear covering her overheated skin. Even still, Sara can sense her less than conscious discomfort, and absent-mindedly trails a hand through Tegan's hair, pushing her bangs back from her damp forehead that's half buried in the pillow, soothing her as one would a small child.

Sara abandons her book after realising her tired brain has not absorbed any of the last page she has read, and gets up from the bed, crossing the room to the window. The sky is dark, sheets of low clouds hiding the stars that would hardly be visible anyway with the orange haze of the city they are currently stopped in's thousands of street lamps. The streets below the fourth storey window are quiet, with few people wanting to be out in the heat that is still present at this late hour. Sara sighs, contemplating taking what would be a third try at getting some sleep, knowing any attempt will only end in the same restless tossing and turning as her twin.

Then, as Sara stares up at the sky, it begins. First a small trickle, just a couple of drops splashing onto the pavement below, building to a steady stream until the rain is pounding out a frantic beat on the cement. She breathes a sigh of relief as the heavens open and the unbearable heat finally breaks. The air has not yet cooled, but the promise that it will do so soon is enough to satisfy Sara. Strong arms wrap around her small frame from behind, the sound of raindrops having woken her twin, and she leans back into Tegan's embrace, allowing herself to be lead back to the bed, leaving the window open. Nestling between the sheets, Sara snuggles back into Tegan, finally able to give in to her tiredness, the sound of the shower beyond the window and the feel of her twin's arms at last soothing her into a deep sleep.


	4. Dark

Tegan was never one to be afraid of the dark. To her, the mysterious, eerie shadows that turned a regular object into a sinister opponent held no terror as they did to most. The innocent tree branches which became grabbing fingers in the night, and the otherwise unconcerning shapes of buildings that turned into a looming, terrifying monsters in the absence of illumination induced no fear. Instead, Tegan welcomed the dark.

The very same cloak of uncertainty that inspired wariness in others was comforting to Tegan. In the lack of light, she could pretend that the features of the figure lying next to her were not identical to her own. She could let her tired mind mask the sickening reality she had found herself in, and dream up an alternate one that didn't involve her twin sister silently slipping into her bed in the dead of night. She could imagine a different situation where they were not committing an unspeakable sin, over and over again, dragged back together like magnets despite how many times they had attempted to pull away.

And there in the dark, Sara sleeping soundly beside her, Tegan could pretend that she didn't want this. She could try to convince herself that she didn't spend all day longing for her own sister to decide to come to her when the lights were out. She could tell herself that this would be the last time, that they could stop this, when really she knew that the chances of her ever being released from her sick obsession were so very slim.

As she lay there, Tegan could give herself a moment of peace. She could tell herself that while what they were doing was so very, very wrong, it would be okay. They were twins after all, one soul split in two bodies, desperately trying to reconnect itself in the only way it could when bound by the limitations of the human body. They never should have been two people; they were bound to end up needing each other so very badly that they were willing to break every moral code they once held. Tegan knew it, they were made for each other.


	5. Peace and Quiet

The room is quiet but for the gentle rustling of pages being turned to the steady rhythm of relaxed breathing. Their companionable silence is one of the most peaceful kind; both lost in a fantasy world between the lines of their chosen books, yet still each enjoying the comforting presence of the other. Sara's head is cushioned in Tegan's lap, feet propped up against the arm of the couch and ever-present coffee mug within reach on the floor. Tegan rests one hand against her sister's stomach, fingers threaded with the identical ones she finds there, fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces. There's no need for words, not after all these years. No constant declarations of love or reassurances that each one's feelings are reciprocated are necessary. All the emotion they both feel is written plainly in their eyes when they lock as they turn pages at the same time. After all this time they are content to simply, peacefully exist, together.


	6. Tears

Even alone, she fights to hold back her sobs as they rise in a choking tide. Her throat constricts, burning with the pain of withheld emotion, the tears struggling to break free from behind eyelids that are squeezed shut to stop the inevitable tracks that would mar her face in ugly streaks if she allowed her feelings to get the better of her. She can't cry, can't let the red-eyed evidence become noticeable, because then, _she_ would know.  
_She_ always knew. No matter how well concealed the marks of her upset are, they are never concealed enough. And then come the questions, the comforting hand on her arm and the concerned inquiries delivered with pleading eyes, begging her to please answer this time, this one time.  
"Sara, what's wrong?"  
And despite the longing to break down in her arms, Sara forces herself to pull away from the gentle touch, retreating further and further into her steadily strengthening shell. She can't begin to explain the reasons for her ever-increasing sadness, unwilling to share the taboo of her inner thoughts with the one person whose very existence is the cause of her pain. Sara can't give in to the urge to simply spill her heart to the person it so very unwillingly belongs to, despite every effort she has taken to reclaim it from the unknowing clutches of her biologically designated partner in this life, and forces herself like the many times before to merely shrug and turn away, while a voice in her head is screaming the thoughts she will never let part from her lips.  
"Sara, what's wrong?"  
_Everything Tegan. Everything_.


End file.
